


God Is Salvation

by ireallyhatecornnuts (CharleyFoxtrot)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fallen Angels, Gen, Joshua as a gardener, post-s8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 05:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharleyFoxtrot/pseuds/ireallyhatecornnuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s by accident that they find him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	God Is Salvation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [proxydialogue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/proxydialogue/gifts).



It's by accident that they find him. 

Six months of chasing after fallen angels, the ones who'd had vessels and hadn't just been born anew. Six months of sifting through records of "meteorite strikes," six months of setting confused angels up with human lives.

Six months of Castiel hating himself. Six months of watching their former angel withdraw, watching him become hardened with his new purpose. 

Yeah, Dean was familiar with this, but that didn't mean he knew how to _fix_ it.

Sam, Kevin, and Charlie were in Georgia helping set Anabiel up with a new, _human_ life, so when they got to Cleveland it was just him and Cas. 

Cas and Dean. _Dean and Cas._ The drive was never more silent than when it was just the two of them - there were words, and they needed to be said, but Dean didn't know what they were or how to find them, and Cas was silent on the subject.

Cas was silent a good majority of the time these days.

Anyway, there was a record of a meteorite strike right in the heart of downtown Cleveland, right in the middle of the Cuyahoga River, and no amount of inspecting the so-called landing site would give up clues to where the angel - it had to be an angel, landing on _that_ particular day in _that_ particular fashion - had gone.

It was like he (or she, or zie; gender identity among angels was a sore topic and something that Dean was receiving an ongoing education on, which made Sam positively _gleeful_ ) had disappeared off the face of the damn planet. There one second, walking down Euclid Avenue, and gone the next. 

Witnesses described a man - so they knew the angel had a male vessel, at least - climbing from the steaming water, but after that, no dice.

"It's alright, Cas," Dean said, reaching out to put his hand on the fallen angel's shoulder. He stopped at the last second, avoiding touch because in six months they hadn't so much as nudged each other and breaking that streak now would be _weird_. "If we can't find him - er, _them_ \- now, they've probably set themselves up somewhere on their own."

"Yes, some of my brothers and sisters are better-equipped for humanity than the rest of us," Castiel said. His voice was bitter, and Dean wondered for the thousandth time if Castiel would have fallen if given a choice. If he'd been offered an opportunity to stay rather than being forced into it. 

He was gonna go with _no_.

They were sitting there, on a bench in Wade Park, and Castiel was moping but Dean would never say that aloud. It was where they'd collapsed after a fruitless afternoon; the walk up and down Euclid Avenue had tired both of them, if they were honest, and the disappointment just added to the exhaustion. It was warm out, a real Indian summer considering it was coming up on Halloween (and _Christ_ , Dean hoped they could just barricade themselves in the bunker cuz he had absolutely zero patience for any witch or demonic _bullshit_ this year) in freaking _Cleveland_. 

It was a Wednesday, and there were several school groups traipsing about the park; an observant eye could tell which ones were well-to-do schools and which ones were lower-income. Specifically, the low-income kids weren't as well-dressed and looked hungry for something; not necessarily food, but maybe assurance that this wasn't _it_. 

That there was more to life than this.

Dean felt a twinge of sympathy; he remembered that feeling, even if it was tempered with the knowledge of the supernatural, and he wanted more than anything to just, somehow, make it _right_. 

He looked around, shaking his head to knock himself out of his own memories, and laughed the moment he realized where they were.

"What's so funny?" Castiel demanded.

"Nothing, it's just - we're at the Cleveland Botanical Gardens," Dean said, laughing some more. "Just -- Nevermind, Cas." 

Castiel's face went even more dour, if that were possible, but Dean just stood up and offered the angel his hand. Cas eyed it before standing up on his own, eschewing Dean's aid. Dean sighed and jerked his head toward the gardens.

"C'mon, for old time's sake," he said, grinning. Castiel looked at him like Dean had no idea what old times were, and maybe he had a point because Cas was _ancient_ and Dean was thirty four, but whatever. It didn't matter, because when he headed toward the greenhouse, Castiel followed.

It was ten bucks apiece and it was kind of a ripoff but Dean was feeling nostalgic so he paid the fee and it was _almost_ worth it to see Cas looking around in interest at the plants. He resisted the urge to snap a picture of the other man peering at a fern like it was some sort of science experiment, or maybe a suspect to be interrogated. 

"Why are we here, Dean?" Castiel asked, as they neared the end of the building.

"Jesus, learn to take a vacation already," Dean said, rolling his eyes. He sighed and sat back down on another bench, Cas joining him after a few seconds contemplation. "It's nothing, really. Sam and I came here when we were kids, is all. It was nice."

They were quiet for several minutes, taking in the smell of fresh, loamy earth; the ozone scent that inhabited every greenhouse on the planet. Like they were constantly on the brink of a thunderstorm.

And that, Dean thought, summed up his life perfectly.

He was about to tell Cas that they should get going if they wanted to find this angel before the week was out when he heard quiet voices coming from behind them; turning, Dean saw that it was two kids, one younger than the other, probably a brother and a sister if he was any judge of things.

"Here, Jeremy, it's okay," the girl was saying. "It's alright, you didn't mean to leave it. You can have mine."

Jeremy, the younger of the two - he was maybe five or six, and his sister looked about eight at _most_ \- sniffled through his tears. "Split it with me?" he murmured, and Dean caught sight of what the girl was holding out - a bagged lunch, small even for one kid let alone two, and he felt his heart seize up just a little bit.

Before he'd really thought about it he'd reached for his wallet, but someone interrupted his sudden charity. 

"Hey, now," said a new voice, an adult voice, and someone squatted in between Dean and the kids. "That doesn't look like a very filling lunch, does it?"

The two children were silent.

"I'll tell you a secret," the voice said, and Dean got the feeling the new person was winking. "That tree over there? The one with the vines growing on it? You see it?"

"Yes, sir," both of them chorused back.

"Every now and then it's been known to spit out sandwiches. I found some there on the ground just the other day," and there was a smile in that voice, and it sounded so _familiar_ for some reason. "Seems the time's about right for it to do it again; last time it was peanut butter and jelly. Why don't you go see if it's decided on ham and cheese today?"

"Wow!" the little brother said, jumping up and darting over to the tree.

His sister stayed where she was, eyes on the stranger. "Thank you," she said, her voice muted, and Dean's heart broke just a little bit more for her. 

"I'm just doing my Father's work," and there was a smirk outright to the voice now. 

Castiel stiffened and turned to regard the scene. Dean could see a dark hand reach out and grasp the sister's hand. "It will get better, child; there are so many wonderful things out there, and you will get to see all of them."

She stared at him, eyes wide. "What about Jeremy?" she asked, glancing over at her brother, who had found a stash of sandwiches and was darting back, holding them over his head. 

“He will too. There is so much out there for you, so much _more_ than this." The man stood up as Jeremy ran over, exclaiming that ham and cheese was, in fact, the sandwich of the day for the sandwich tree. 

"Thank you," the sister repeated. She glanced at Jeremy, who was unwrapping a ham and cheese sandwich. "For telling us about the sandwich tree."

"You are _very_ welcome," the stranger said, tipping his head. "If you ever come back, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays are usually sandwich days."

"Are you a gardener?" the sister asked, accepting one of the sandwiches from her brother. The stranger's head tilted slightly, and Dean froze in place as he recognized the man's face. 

"I suppose you could say that," he said, with a grin.

The two of them scampered off and it was only then that Dean spoke.

"Joshua," he croaked out.

He was in the same vessel as the last time Dean had seen him, and just as full of serenity and peace. 

Dean sort of hated him for it. 

"Dean Winchester," Joshua said, smiling even wider and turning entirely. "And Castiel." Without preamble, Joshua circled around, settling himself in between the two of them on the bench; he set his lunch pail, suspiciously empty, at his feet. "I had heard the Winchesters were running an angel rehabilitation; I suppose you've been looking for me?"

"You the one that crashed into the river six months ago?" Dean said. Joshua nodded, serenely. "Then yeah, you're the one we've been looking for."

"As you can see, I don't need much in the way of help," Joshua said. He smiled. "A mutual friend of ours may have helped me get started on my way, but I think I've just about got this human thing sussed out."

"Mutual fr - you're still talking to _God_?" Dean hissed. Castiel reared back, looking affronted. 

"Of course, He's my father," Joshua said, and for the first time he sounded annoyed. 

"He knows and He's done nothing," Castiel said, dully.

Joshua's eyes twinkled. "Well, it wasn't the way He would have chosen to have things go, but on consideration He quite likes the idea. After all, we angels never really loved humanity the way He wanted us to. Perhaps our sister Anna came close, and you yourself, Castiel." Joshua outright smiled now. "I find I'm taking a liking to it, personally."

"Are you saying that God _wants_ the angels to be fallen? What the _hell_ , man?" Dean said, and now he reared back as well because _wow_ , dick move, God. 

Joshua shook his head. "It's not that He has a preference for them falling, it's that He would have rather them chosen it for themselves. Even angels have free will." His smile was almost beatific as he leaned in toward Castiel. "As you well know, brother."

Cas froze. "This is my fault," he said, his voice mournful.

"Now, you know that's not true," Joshua said, gently chastising. "Metatron did this of his own free will; perhaps a small portion of the blame rest with Naomi, and possibly even God Himself. But you, Castiel, did nothing wrong. Not _this_ time." He sighed and shook his head again. "If you want to make amends, Castiel, keep doing the work you're doing. Live a good life. Live the kind of life our Father would be proud of."

"Is being human my punishment, then?" Castiel slumped leaning back against the bench, and Dean got the feeling that he was taking this like the final nail in his coffin.

"Being human is neither punishment nor reward, Castiel. It is, as it has always been, what you make of it." Joshua sighed and stood up. "I must get back to work, gentlemen, but you can cross me off your list. I'm doing fine on my own."

"Hey, wait," Dean said. He fished around for his wallet, pulling out a twenty and gesturing toward one of the other low-income groups of kids. "Donation for the sandwich tree."

Joshua smiled, a genuine smile of joy, as he accepted the money. "I'll make sure the sandwich tree gets your regards, Mister Winchester," he said. He turned and walked back down the way he'd come.

Cas stared moodily at the glass ceiling for several minutes before standing abruptly. "I would like to never come to Cleveland again," he announced. 

As Dean trailed after him as they exited the garden, he was suffused with a general sense of hope; in six months of humanity, never once had Castiel indicated a preference for anything, _ever_. 

Maybe being human had it's perks, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the literal translation of the name Joshua: God Is Salvation (Hebrew).
> 
> So shortly after the S8 finale, proxydialogue posted a [thing](http://proxydialogue.tumblr.com/post/52017254749/i-just-realized-that-joshua-is-on-earth-now-i) where she talked about Joshua being fallen.
> 
> I had a slight brainsplosion, and this was the result.
> 
> This is slightly cleaned up but completely unbeta'd. You could possibly read it as pre-slash, but mostly it's not.
> 
> THANK THE TUMBLR OUTAGE OF AUGUST 2013 FOR ME POSTING THIS HERE. I got bored.
> 
> As usual, you can find me at my tumblr, disease-danger-darkness-silence.tumblr.com.


End file.
